


I'm the One and Only Sound

by kiki_miserychic



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Cylons, F/F, Female Relationships, Female-Centric, Femslash, International Day of Femslash, Robot Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_miserychic/pseuds/kiki_miserychic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you can be good, you'll live forever / If you're bad, you'll die when you die </p>
<p>Set sometime between Exodus Part 2 (3x04) and Faith (4x08).</p>
<p>Natalie/the drowned 6</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm the One and Only Sound

**Author's Note:**

> You always remember that first sharp intake of breath with the thick liquid rushing into your lungs. Your new body's first taste of oxygen is always tinged with a sickeningly sweet flavor. No matter how many downloads you go through, you can never remember to surface before pulling air into the new lungs, always so eager.

"Deep," says the other one, a continual presence at your resurrections. She says the same things every time as she gathers you one up in an over-sized white robe, freshly awakened. She has darker hair than you; than most of the sixes. Natalie is what she calls herself, so most of the others do as well. There's little talk of it, wanting to make distinctions. It's usually the infiltrators that adopt their own nomenclature, but Natalie has never looked at a human from any closer than outside of a Raider.

"Where is it?" Natalie asks and you've never heard her sound this tired. It's funny that they haven't found your body yet, so you laugh a stifled snort that morphs into something else. Suddenly you're on the verge of crying while you stand up in the resurrection tub, turning away from Natalie. All of your insides feel exposed, like the skin wasn't properly formed.

"Lower levels, near the hyper-dimensional matrix systems," you answer because it's easier than listening to her lecture. It's almost like the first time you died. You can feel the pulling of your muscles together as strong arms hold you down. That liquid was not clear like that of resurrection, it was full of human waste and you were drowning in it. Maybe you laughed a weak laugh under the water, but no one could hear you because that woman taped your mouth shut and threw you in to suffocate on her shit and piss. Maybe your eyes started to water, but it didn't matter anyways. A few tears won't be noticed. Your body wasn’t recovered until after you'd resurrected then too, but no one would tell you that.

Just as you are about to step out of the tub, you freeze because one of the Cavils slithers into the room. His stare makes want to curl up into a ball. It doesn't make sense, but if you can't see him, then he can't see you. And oh how much you want to claw at something. His face, his hands, the walls, your eyes, anything.

"If she does this again, there will be consequences for her actions that she, and only she, will be held accountable for." With that he spins on his heels and returns to where he came from.

"He's right, sister, this kind of behavior won't be overlooked much longer by the others. I shouldn't need to remind you of what happened to the last who, who," Natalie hesitates, not finding the right phrase to describe committing suicide while knowing there won't be a lasting death. "Why do you do this?"

You sink back down into the tub still wrapped in your robe. There's plenty more and one less won't matter for today.

"There's nothing. For a short amount of time, there's nothing. I can't feel anything for a few quiet moments." You finally explain in the words you can fit together that convey some sort of sense. Natalie looks at you with wide, uncomprehending eyes. She's so different from you in so many ways that it's hard to believe you're the same model. She's standing to the side, her spine perfectly aligned and her arms hanging loosely at her sides. Draped at her sides, her hands are a contradiction to the fidgeting that moves through you. You turn away from her again, which only makes her sigh and sit down on the edge.

"Shh, it's ok, it won't always be like this. We'll eventually get through this." Her voice becomes softer, yet it irritates you that she speaks like you both went through it. She doesn't have your memories. No other six has your memory of the water treatment plant. They shouldn't know that experience and neither should you.

Out of the corner of your eye, Natalie angles her body to face you and leans down. Her hand stretches above you and then disappears into the depths of the resurrection tub. You wait for the sensation of skin to skin contact, but first she moves the robe aside from your knees. Some of the robes are annoyingly harsh from their lack of use and cleaning, but the liquid dulls the feel of the cloth over your skin. Natalie's hand glides down until her fingertips brush over your stomach. The movement continues down until her whole hand rests flat against your lower stomach. The warmth of her hand makes you close your eyes and lean further back. Fingers gently brush over your sensitive skin, settling over your clit.

Her hand is moving too slow to do anything more than tease, but you don't tell her because she already knows.

"It'll be ok," are the whispered comforts she offers you. You take them even though they feel empty because she's finally sliding her fingers faster and harder. The slight pressure from two fingers slipping back and forth causes you to sink even lower in the tub, your leg muscles tensing and your hips pushing upwards. Choked sobs start pouring out of your mouth, but you don't try to stop them.

Pushing your arms against the sides of the tub, you make room for the heat traveling down your body. It starts as a tingling sensation in the back of your neck and begins to slide down. Natalie shifts on the edge to latch her gaze on your face. The weight of her watching presses behind your eyes, making you aware of every part of your body. She curls her fingers, letting one of her fingernails trail over your clit, pushing you off the edge. You can't feel your toes for a brief moment as your whole body constricts and releases.

"Rest," Natalie breathes into your ear as she trails her hand up over your thigh and out of the liquid. Your eyes are still closed, so you hear, rather than see her moving around the chamber. After she finishes cleaning her arm, she places a fresh robe at the end of the tub, and leaves. The chamber is silent except for the hum of the ship and you can breathe without your ribs feeling too tight.


End file.
